Tuesday, February 18, 2014

beach boundaries

Last weekend, Beth and I enjoyed a lovely afternoon at the beach. Everyone was thrilled to be out there together on a nice day in our favorite spot. Each of the big girls had her own surfboard complete with leash and fins, and no one's board was leaking or being hogged. The wee girl had a boogie board and wee friends, Beth and I had beverages and a great vantage point to watch the girls surf, and all was right with the world.

Okay, there was the small matter of the girls apparently having to be rescued from the rip current, unbeknownst to us, but that's what lifeguards are for, right?

Anyway.

The beach had been crowded when we arrived, but by the time we began to think about packing up to head over for a bite, the population was sparse although the day was still bright. Beth left for about 5 minutes to bring her car into the now half vacant lot, and I stayed with the offspring and my book and my bev. It was quiet.

I heard and saw a large family come over the berm to the vast expanse of sandy beachfront. The first person set her chair down a respectable distance from Beth's and my chairs (weird grammar alert). As the other members of this large, noisy family joined the matriarch, they set up to the side of her. They all set up on one side of her. On the side between her chair and mine.

It was a little weird, but whatever. People are weird. I was leaving soon anyway, so I just noticed with interest as each person came and set their stuff closer and closer to me.

You're probably thinking that I'm a beach snob, they weren't *that* close, there's plenty of room on the beach for all of us. And there is. There is plenty of room on the beach, even on the most crowded of days.

It takes a bit of finesse to set up on a crowded day, you want to find the sweet spot that is not obscured by anyone's dumb umbrella or oblivious seagull attracting litter repository. And of course, always, you've got to respect the boundaries of beach etiquette. Don't get all up in someone's space, and don't let your kids walk on their towels. It's beach gospel.

So maybe you think I'm being a snob, assuming that they weren't all THAT close.

Lucky for both of us, I took photos.

The tan chair is mine.

And the beach was not crowded.

Beth is on the close side of her blue chair, my tan chair is on the other side.

It was so weird! When Beth came back from moving her car, I was standing up looking for hidden cameras. That's what gave me the idea to take photos. She called me from across the sand, cracking up. I was quite relieved to have someone there to verify that I had not stepped into the twilight zone.

But they were offered cheese, Ellie, those almost drowned girls. And asked to move out of our sun. They were so wound up about the event that they were hard to understand at first. For quite a while actually. We thought (I guess I should not speak for Jacquie)...I thought that their drama was of the usual variety... you know, like the text you get during your 7 AM yoga class that asks, urgently, "HOW EARLY CAN JACQUIE"S GIRL COME OVER TODAY?!?!?" Apparently, it was a bit more than that.

But back to the great boundary issue of 2014. There was basically NO ONE else on the beach. Jacquie did not post a shot of the other side of our set up, but there was no one in sight. I did crack right up when I crested the "berm to the vast expanse of sandy beachfront."

Speak!

Featured Jacquie

Featured Beth

Featured Ellie

Once upon a glass or twelve of wine, Jacquie and Beth and Ellie got to talking. We decided that we were all enormously smart and clever and hilarious, and that it would be a crime not to share our unique talents with the world. We decided to start a blog together.

We needed a name, so Jacquie asked Beth: “What should we call a blog about meand you and Ellie?” And the rest, as they say, is history. We are having a blast writing this thing, and if there was any trepidation that we were only smart and clever and hilarious that night because of all the wine, our words here thus far have succinctly affirmed our mutual self-admiration.